


Polarity

by Husaria



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Arguing, Friendship/Love, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-17
Updated: 2012-06-18
Packaged: 2017-11-07 23:56:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/436838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Husaria/pseuds/Husaria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poland has a question for Lithuania - to reform the Commonwealth with him. To Poland's shock, Lithuania firmly opposes, recalling  it as a time when his culture and language were treated as inferior and second-class. The ensuing argument spirals out of control, and Poland begins to question the true nature of their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Engagement

**Author's Note:**

> [De-Anon from Kink Meme](http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/21382.html?thread=90718086#t90718086)
> 
> Cleaned up a bit and posted here.

They sit down at a table in the middle of the kitchen. It’s not an unusual scene. On some occasions, they have tea and just talk for hours and hours on end until it’s late in the night and the sky is black and one of them has to half-carry the other up to bed.

But today there is no tea, and it is evening—the clouds beyond the window are purple-pink-red-orange-yellow-cream from the changing sky, and large. It might rain tonight.

“What do you want to talk about tonight, Po?” Lithuania asks. He begins to rise. “I’ll make us some tea.”

“N-No!” Poland exclaims.

Lithuania’s eyes widen in surprise, and he sits back down. Poland closes his and sighs. That is not the best way to start the evening, especially an evening as important as this. He should know this by now. He just has to be calm, no matter how much his heart is jittering.

“Lie—Lithuania,” he says. “I really,  _really_  have to talk to you right now. This is, like, really important, and I need you.”

Lithuania looks at him with a troubled expression. Poland can only wonder why; Lithuania is always the one with important talks and concerns. For Poland to request a conversation especially in such a direct and serious manner, must be nearly inconceivable, now that Poland thinks about it.

“Is everything alright?” Lithuania says. “Do you need help with something?”

“No, no,” Poland replies. “Well, at least, not  _total_  help, but I need to ask you something.”

Lithuania leans forward, his unsettlement growing. “What?”

Remarkably Poland smiles. Oh, Lithuania will love it when he said this! He knows he will!

“Would you like to reform the Commonwealth with—?”

_“No.”_

He speaks the word with such finality and certainty. He sounds decisive, his voice unwavering.

It’s not,  _“No, Poland, I’ll do it later”_  or  _“No, but maybe I’ll think about it”_  or  _“No, but I’m sure we can come to a compromise about this.”_  It’s just—

No. N-O. Final.

Poland isn’t even sure that he heard Lithuania right. This is just something so unnatural, so bizarre, so  _un-Liet_ , that it just has to be wrong. He didn’t even have a chance to finish the sentence!

“Um, did you hear me right?”

Lithuania looks at Poland from across the table with clear eyes. He doesn’t look delirious; he isn’t drunk. So, what is it then?

“Yes. I heard you, Poland. And I’m saying no."

The clock ticks behind Poland above the refrigerator. He feels every motion of the hand, the sound striking into his soul.

Poland clears his throat. “Liet, like, I’m pretty sure that you didn’t get that right. I’m talking about reforming the Commonwealth. You know, our glory days.” And right after he says that the flood of memories hits him—resplendent medieval Warsaw, the gentle rye fields. The feel of  _power_. The power of half of the European continent within his hands.

Lithuania scowls, jarring Poland out of his memories, but it disappears in a heartbeat.

“Yes, Poland. I know about the Commonwealth,” he states calmly. “And I believe that this isn’t the best solution in these current times.”

“Why  _wouldn’t_  it be?” Poland insists. “I mean, look at what happened  _then_. Everything was really good. We didn’t have to worry about much. Our economies were booming. Of course, there were some…err, stuff that needed fixing towards the end. But  _Litwo_ —”

Lithuania starts at that last word.

“ _Liet_ —sorry. But seriously, Liet, I, like, don’t see why you don’t want to do it.” He chuckles nervously. “I mean, we both need to support each other, you know. We’re a team.  _If God is with us, then who is against us_?”

Lithuania snorts, shaking his head.

Poland blinks and honestly feels confused. “Uhh, sorry, what? Liet, you  _remember_  the Commonwealth, don’t you? Don’t you remember how great it was, being, like, one of the strongest countries in the  _world_? It was  _amazing_! I can’t remember a happier time in my life.”

Poland looks back at Lithuania, who hasn’t moved an inch.

“What the heck, Liet?!” he exclaims. “Don’t you agree? Don’t you remember? We had such a great time.” When he does not respond, Poland’s voice takes on a harsher tone. “Were you even  _there_ —?”

“Of course I remember.” Lithuania speaks quietly but with such intensity that it cuts off the words Poland was about to say. One of his hands clenches into a fist. “I don’t  _ever_  want to relive that again, you understand? I didn’t like it; it was like a poison for me.”

Lithuania might as well have slapped him. Or stabbed him. “What?” he whimpers. “B-But why? Liet, we had everything we could have wanted. I don’t understand. It was a great time for both of us. I thought you liked it.”

The brunet closes his eyes and sighs sadly. “You’ve never really  _listened_  to me, have you?”

“What?!” Poland snaps, standing up. And enraged, he just keeps talking. “What makes you say that? Of course, I’ve always listened to you. I was your partner for, what over 200 years? I’m  _still_  your partner, in some ways.”

Lithuania opens his eyes. “Po—”

“How can you say that, Liet?  _How_? I thought we were best friends—”

“Poland—”

“This  _hurts_ , Liet. It really does—”

_“Poland, that is enough.”_  Lithuania slams an open palm onto the table, the smack reverberating around the room for a few moments. Poland falls silent, shrinking in the face of Lithuania’s anger.

Lithuania breathes out through his teeth and shakes his head. “See, this is exactly what I am talking about, Poland. You. Never.  _Listen_. Even today, after four hundred years, you still don’t.”

“But why, Liet?” Poland asks. “I-I thought we were friends. I thought we treated each other fairly, like equals.”

“Poland, please just calm yourself and sit down,” Lithuania replies. “I will explain this to you, but you'll have to be quiet and listen to me.”

Poland sits but finds himself unable to calm down. Lithuania has knocked something over in his mind, and an unknown anxiety spreads through him. But he can’t concentrate on that now.

“Can you just tell me what I did wrong?” he asks. “You’re just telling me that you hated the Commonwealth, but you’re not telling me  _why_ , Liet.

“There were several reasons why I didn’t like it, Poland, partially because it was rather forced and formed out of desperation. But that isn't the main reason.”

Poland leans forward to listen. “Then what is?”

Lithuania slowly breathes in and out, and his voice and voice relax. “The way you treated me and my culture.”

Poland blinks. “Wait, what? What was so bad about that? I thought the Lithuanian nobles were treated fairly. I made sure that they were—”

“But they were hardly ‘Lithuanian’ nobles,” Lithuania says. “They spoke Polish, wore Polish clothing. Some even changed their surnames so that they sounded Polish.”

“And you think I had something to do with that?” Poland retorts. “It’s not my fault your people adopted my culture. You’re acting like I forced them to do it. I didn’t force them to do anything. In  _my_  eyes, they were still Lithuanian.”

“No, but you made it more than obvious that my culture and language were frowned upon.” Lithuania crosses his arms.

Poland makes a sound of disgust. “Oh really? When did I ever do that?”

“First off, only the middle and lower-class of my people spoke or even practiced any type of Lithuanian culture.” He clears this throat. “And now, let me remind you of the official languages of the Commonwealth.” Poland really hates the tone that Lithuania is taking. He’s starting to sound like a bratty child who didn’t get his candy. “Polish—”

“What does this have to do with any—?”

“Just be quiet and listen, Poland!” Lithuania snaps. He takes a deep breath. “Polish, Latin, Hebrew, Ruthenian, German, and oh I think you even recognized _Armenian_  at some point.”

“So? What’s your point? All of those languages were really important, Liet—”

“But not mine?” Lithuania replies. “Not Lithuanian? Not one of the many languages of the Polish- _Lithuanian_  Commonwealth?”

Poland rolls his eyes. “God, stop talking like that. It’s annoying.”

Lithuania blankly stares at him. He says nothing for a few seconds before opening his mouth to speak in a hushed voice:

“That is exactly what you told me when I tried to speak Lithuanian while I was in Warsaw.” He adopts a high falsetto voice in mockery of Poland. “‘Stop talking like that’, ‘No one can understand you anyways’. There were times where you wouldn’t even  _speak_  to me if I spoke Lithuanian. My culture was frowned upon and treated second-class, Poland. Your influence was so great that mine was shrinking every year of the Commonwealth.”

The room goes quiet. Poland honestly has no idea what to say to this. Did he really say this? Did this really happen? He doesn’t remember at all. Maybe he did tell Lithuania those things. But doesn’t Lithuania know that was  _then_  and this was  _now_?

“If you had such a problem with it, why did you  _tell me_?” Poland says. “I could have fixed something.”

Lithuania looks at him as if to gauge whether he is being serious and closes his eyes. “I did. I voiced to you my concerns so many times, but you didn’t do a single thing, even if I did tell you in Polish or Latin or Ruthenian.”

“Oh...” Poland has to carefully choose his next few words. He doesn’t want to offend Lithuania anymore than he already has.

“But, I mean, this time it’ll be  _different_ , Liet,” Poland says softly. “This is today and things have change. If it matters to you that much, then I’ll make sure both of our languages have equal status.”

“ _You’ll_  make sure? In that case, what am  _I_  supposed to do then?”

“Oh please, you knew what I meant. Don’t try to turn this around on me.” Now it’s Poland’s turn to cross his arms. “I mean, it’s not like you haven’t seen how nostalgic I’ve been about the Commonwealth or anything. You could’ve told me then and not now when I  _tried to reform it with you_.

“I thought you knew, Poland. I thought you knew and pretended to forget about it. Now I know that you forgot about it all this time.”

“Mmm.” Poland will never admit it out loud to Lithuania, but he was right. Poland really  _did_  forget about the status of Lithuania’s culture during the Commonwealth. It was never a big focal point to him—he just remembers the glory of the Crown and everything good and stable that came with it.

“This conversation has given me a headache,” Lithuania says. “Can we just put it to bed for now and have some tea?”

“Yes, we can. You know I like black tea.”

Lithuania nods and gets up, first going to turn on the light (how long have they been arguing in the dark?) and then heading to the cabinets to get the teakettle.

Night has fallen, and it is dark outside. From what Poland can see, his house is one of many with lights still on. There aren’t any stars in the sky and he faintly sees watermarks on the window. Rain.

He looks back at Lithuania, but there is something different about him now. It’s like an invisible wall has sprung up between him and his friend. Lithuania is no longer so approachable or familiar. He has changed. Yes, there is no doubt in Poland’s mind that Lithuania is cordial or friendly or helpful. Lithuania has always been those things. But it’s not the same. He can’t help but wonder what Lithuania has been feeling the entirety of his stay at Poland’s house. Did he not want to be here at all? Is there some subconscious disgust when Poland went to hug him? Does he loathe the times when they were intimate? Is his opinion of Poland really so low, but he just doesn’t have the heart to tell him anything?

Is everything a lie?

Sure, their relationship has problems big and small, like every other relationship there is. Why, just last week Lithuania yelled at Poland for not folding his clothes correctly. And a few days after that they had a “debate”, for lack of a better word, about the current situation of Polish schools in Vilnius. But despite all of these things, they are together. Poland considers Lithuania—the man; the personification of that ancient country; the living, breathing being with his own thoughts and wishes and dreams—one of his closest friends, and he has been with him throughout nearly all of his life. And that idea is impossible for anyone to change, no matter how many times they have fought.

But if that thought is so rigid, so engrained in the both of them, then why on Earth is Poland so worried? He is still the same Lithuania, right? The same Liet who will hug him if he had a rough day at work, the Liet who knows exactly how Poland loves his pierogi. This is just another argument. Nothing too major. Everything will be back to normal within the next twenty-four hours. Their relationship will still be the same.

Right?

Then again, they left their previous argument hanging. Now it is Poland’s turn to step up and resolve it before they both let it sit there and fester.

He turns around and looks at the clock just as Lithuania walks across the kitchen. Eight o’clock. Poland hopes he could resolve it within the next few hours. He has to get up early for a meeting in twelve hours.

“Oh, it looks like it’s starting to rain now, Poland.”

_Poland_ , he said. Not Po. Could mean something. Could mean nothing.

“Is it?” Poland says nonchalantly. “It looked like it was going to rain earlier today.”

“Really? Did it say so in the paper?” See, here he is, talking about normal domestic stuff. After an argument. This is normal, right?

“I didn’t read the paper this morning, Liet. I just saw the clouds outside.”

“Ah. Well, in that case, it’s good for the flowers.”

Poland nods and pretends not to watch him as Lithuania sits back down at the table across from him. Alright, this is it. This is his chance. He either has to tell Lithuania now, or—

_WHEEEEEEEEEE!_

“Oh, the water’s boiling already!” Lithuania gets up again, but it’s quite a jerky movement. Poland hears his knee bang on the table. “Hold on, I’ll be back in just a little bit.”

Oh yes, something is most definitely wrong. And it’s up to Poland to fix it.

“Don’t forget the little lemon.”

Lithuania has his back to him, but Poland sees him pouring the water into the teapot. “I won’t forget it, Po.”

Poland taps his fingers against the table. “And don’t bring out the milk. You know I don’t like milk in my tea.”

“I know, Po. I know.”

Poland turns around and faces the empty chair across the table. The clock is ever ticking behind him. He wishes he had control of the time now. That way he can fast-forward all of this tea business and go straight to talking to Lithuania.

But does he really have to talk to Lithuania  _now_? The brunet is jumpy, and if Poland says the wrong thing, it probably can set him off on something else. Maybe he should just wait until the morning.

No, no, the morning won’t do. Poland can’t procrastinate. He has to do it now so he can get it over with.

Finally, the damned tea is done and Lithuania comes back to the table with the tea tray. There is the teakettle and the teapot and two cups for the both of them and a small lemon wedge on a napkin and another cup filled with—

“Liet, is that milk?” Poland asks, looking at the white liquid.

Lithuania sits down. “Yes.”

“But you know I don’t like milk in my tea.”

“I know.” Lithuania takes a cup and fills a quarter of it with milk. “But  _I_  like milk with mine, remember?”

Poland ever so slightly narrows his eyes at Lithuania. “Oh…of course I remember. You do like milk with your tea.”

Lithuania fills the rest of his cup with tea. “Go on. Why don’t you pour yourself some tea, Poland? It’ll keep us warm tonight.”

Poland just stares at the teapot. He can’t help but wonder if Lithuania put some  _rue_  in the tea. Why is he even thinking like this? Lithuania is his friend; he would never deliberately poison him.

“Yeah, I think I’ll need a cup.” Poland takes the teapot and fills his cup up to the brim. Steam rises, and Poland breathes on the top to cool it down.

“Thank you for making the tea, Liet.”

Lithuania smiles, but it is a forced one. “You’re welcome, Poland.”

Poland waits in silence for a minute and takes a sip of his tea. “Umm, Liet.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re, okay, right?”

“And why wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh…no reason then.” Feliks’ free hand draws circles on the table. “Listen, Liet, about our  _discussion_  earlier.”

Lithuania groans and puts down his cup. “Oh God, you’re still on that, are you? Don’t think I haven’t figured out what a part of this was about.”

_This_  was certainly a new development.

“What do you mean what this was about?”

“Our current conflict about the Polish minority in Lithuania.”

“Just  _what_  makes you say that?” Poland exclaims. “Why the  _hell_  are you dragging that into this? This has absolutely  _nothing_ —”

“Well, it makes sense,” Lithuania says calmly. “If the Commonwealth is reformed, then technically, Polish would be an official language, and there would not be any problems in the Vilnius. That’s what this is about.”

Poland’s eyes widen, and he cannot believe what he is hearing. “That is absolute  _bullshit_!  _I_  wanted to reform the Commonwealth because it would provide the  _both_  of us protection while all of this crap is going on in Europe. I did not have any ulterior motive while I told you about this plan.”

“I wonder why I don’t believe that,” Lithuania says, looking around the room. “Since you seem to have forgotten most of our past, maybe you’ve  _also_ forgotten the word  _międzymorze. ”_

“Now you’re just being  _stupid_ , Liet, and bringing in random things that have nothing to do with what I said.”

“But it  _was_  another plan your one of bosses brought up to reform the Commonwealth.”

“Piłsudski wasn’t even my boss at the time! Maybe  _you’re_  the one who’s forgetting stuff.”

“At least my boss doesn’t tell me plans to revive something that’s been  _dead_  for two hundred years.”

Poland stiffens, and for a few seconds, he  _hates_  Lithuania. “My boss didn’t come up with this plan,” he whispers. “ _I_  did.  _I_ came up with it personally, Liet. I thought that it could help  _both_  of us. I thought that our nations could regain the wealth of the first Commonwealth and even  _provide_ some form of leadership to Europe.” He looks Lithuania up and down. “But obviously, you’re not cut out for it.”

Lithuania takes slow, deep breaths. “You  _only_  are thinking of the fun side of the Commonwealth, Poland. You’re not thinking of anything else. What about me? What about  _my_  people? Do you honestly think that they’ll be happy learning that their country—their country that they have worked so long for independence—will be forming a union with the nation that A, is my most troubling minority, and B, the one that has suppressed them since the sixteenth century, maybe even earlier.”

Poland scoffs. “They’ll be happy soon enough when our economies improve.”

Lithuania laughs, a harsh cold laugh. “And how on Earth do you propose  _that_  will happen. Have you  _seen_  the state of our economies today, Poland?  _Have you_?” He lets out a bark of laughter. “If anything, this union would probably drive us into even deeper debt.”

“Well, I didn’t think of  _how_  because I thought that  _you_  would help me come up with a plan,” he snaps. “Obviously, that pessimism of yours is keeping us from going anywhere.”

“And your idealism is? Oh and guess what. You know who else might be unhappy about this second Commonwealth? Our neighbors!” Lithuania smiles widely and claps his hands. “Let’s see, Germany will think something’s up. Ukraine and Belarus might even  _hate_  us because they'll think we'll invade and conquer them again.”

“What the hell? I would  _never_  think of invading Ukraine. She’s my friend!”

“She won’t know that. She’ll probably think of the Cossack Uprising when she hears about this. Oh, and you know who else who probably won’t approve of this?  _Russia_.”

Rain slams against the kitchen window, leaving stains across the glass.

“Oh God, why do you have to mention  _him_  all the time? I’m sure that if he tries to do something, the European community will be on his ass in a second.”

“And not on ours?” Lithuania asks. “I think that there is some EU regulation about forming political unions between countries.”

“Then  _screw the EU_. We can survive without it. Look at all the crap it’s given us while we’re in it.”

Lithuania leans against the back of the chair. “And yet, you still expect us to have some economic growth. Without the EU, we’ll have to do this completely on our own.”

“And what’s the problem with that?”

Lithuania lets out a snarl of frustration and Poland is surprised that he hasn’t thrown anything yet.

“We  _don’t have the means to make a union with just ourselves._  It would take too much money and our economies would have to be shifted around and my people would be totally against it. You—” Lithuania points at Poland. “—are being entirely unrealistic and  _selfish_.”

_“Selfish?”_  Poland snarls. “This was supposed to benefit both of—”

“Oh please don’t give me that! Just admit it, this entire idea was all—about— _you_. You were only thinking about yourself while you were making this up. You didn’t care about me, my people, or the outside consequences of this action.”

“You’re lucky I haven’t flung this teapot at your  _face_ , Liet!

Lithuania seethes and runs a hand over his face. “This is not working out," he murmurs. "With our current situation and now  _this_ , I don’t know why I haven't left yet.”

Poland looks down at the table. “Then, why are you still here?”

_“What?”_

Poland raises his head and glares at him. “ _Why do you still live with me_? If you’ve been independent for twenty years, why are you here? Get out! Your face annoys me.”

“Poland, what are you talking abou—?”

“You’ve heard me! Come on. If you hate me and the Commonwealth so much, why haven't you left? Get out before I make you. Go back to your house in Vilnius.”

The sound of the rain is harder and harder with each passing moment. Lithuania swallows and looks straight at him. “Fine. I will.” He gets out of the chair and heads into the foyer.

Poland follows him. “And don’t come back!” he yells. “Don’t you dare come back! Get out of Poland! I don’t want you here anymore!”

“Good-bye,” Lithuania gives him a quick wave as he grabs his keys and walks out.

Poland throws open the door and screams into the rain. “I don’t ever want to see your face around here, do you hear me? Don’t  _ever_  come back!”

Lithuania backs out of the driveway without another word and drives down the street, his rear lights shrinking as he speeds away.

“Don’t come back!” Poland yells anyways. “Don’t come back!...Don’t come back…”

He slams the door behind him and collapses in front of it. He puts his head in his hands and begins to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _międzymorze_ – a plan created by Józef Piłsudski in the 1920s to reform the Commonwealth, but with the goal of Prometheism—the ultimate dismanteling of the Soviet Union; Lithuanians saw this plan as a threat to their new independence and this eventually helped sour Polish-Lithuanian relations


	2. Acceptance

He has to pick himself up and continue.

After a full hour or so of _crying_ , Poland wipes his eyes and nose and stands. He heads towards the kitchen and picks up the teapot, the teakettle, the two cups of tea, and the milk. He empties everything into the sink, watching the mixture of liquids swirl into the drain. He doesn’t cry, not even a sniffle. All of his emotions have dried on his cheeks.

_BOOM._

The lights go out and the windows rattle.

He has never liked thunder; when the rumbling is above the house, his memory temporarily regresses and he is once again back in Warsaw with the roar of tanks and whistles of bombs and ancient buildings swaying and crashing to the ground. Poland whimpers and begins to shake, calling out for the friend who would always comfort him during his regressions.

_“Liet.”_

His throat closes, and the tears rise to his eyes again. But he shakes his head and closes the cabinet.

Poland has no idea where the flashlight is so he takes out his phone and the small backlight lights his path. He makes his way through the living room and up the stairs, praying that there won’t be another thunderclap. Poland sighs in relief as he reaches the landing. He knows the second-floor corridor by heart, and his anxiety level drops a little.

The lights blink back on, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Lithuania’s guest room. But it is dark inside. Poland turns on the light.

Now when he sees it, he wishes that he had never offered it to Lithuania. His clothing is still in the closet; his clay animal ocarinas are on the nightstand (oh Lord, he has a name for them but Poland forgot); the bed is made the same way that Lithuania has for the past two decades, always so neat and tidy and straight. 

Poland goes to the nightstand and runs his hand over a howling clay wolf. He has half a mind to throw it across the room or hit it with a hammer and shatter it into a million pieces, but thinks better of it. He places two fingers over two holes on the wolf’s side and blows into the hole on the tip of the wolf’s raised tail. A high-pitched shrill cry screeches out, and Poland immediately puts the wolf down. 

Poland looks over at the room one more time. It’s all so sudden. Lithuania didn’t even have time to gather his things. Will he even come back to get them?

Poland turns off the light and closes the door.

_BOOM._

He gasps and runs to his room and throws open the door and jumps into bed. He doesn’t even bother changing into his pajamas. He throws the covers over his ears and whimpers, shutting his eyes. The bed is cold, colder and emptier than he can remember, devoid of the warm comforting arms that would wrap around him and reassure him it was thunder and nothing more. 

“Y-You’re okay, Poland,” he whines, nestling his head on the pillow. “Everything’s o-okay. It’s j-just thunder. S-S-Stupid thunder. E-Everything will be fine.”

Everything will be fine, and everything will be normal. Poland will get used to this, and everything will go back to normal.

But what is the meaning of _normal_?

All of the dictionaries that Poland has read say something akin to “conforming to a standard; usual, typical, or expected”. _“Usual, typical, or expected”_. But what is “normal” for him?

The past twenty years have been the closest Poland has ever been to “normal” since the Second Polish Republic. Here Poland has a normal routine, a normal schedule, and normal customs and habits that don’t interfere with everyday life.

But returning to this normalcy, he had a friend. He had Lithuania. Seeing Lithuania almost everyday had been _“usual, typical, or expected”_ , something that Poland had come to look forward to at the end of each day.

But Lithuania is gone, and Poland has to deal with these painful memories on his own.

No, no, he can’t think so negatively. Lithuania _has_ to come back. He _has_ to! He can’t see Lithuania permanently going back to his house in Vilnius. Lithuania needed Poland and Poland needed Lithuania. That’s how it’s always been, no matter the relations between their countries or whatever dumb thing Poland’s said. They’ve always been together. They’ve always been partners.

Or have they? A seed of doubt has implanted itself inside Poland’s mind and has flowered. Maybe Lithuania really was lying all along, wasn’t he? They were never as close as Poland thought they were. It’s all just been a ruse from Lithuania. The nation was just too kind for his own good and lied to spare Poland’s feelings. But no, what is Poland thinking? This is _Lithuania_ he’s talking about. He’d never do that to him, would he?

The next few days, Poland is in limbo. Half the time, he wanders around the house, doing chores and tedious work, once, twice, three times in a day, just to give himself something to do. When Lithuania was at his house, Poland had someone to _talk_ to at least, even if they didn’t see eye to eye on a number of issues. The house is silent. Poland doesn’t even have the heart to call his other friends.

_“Poland, we made plans to go shopping in Krakow at our normal spot last weekend, but you didn’t come. Is everything all right? Did you get into another argument with Lithuania? Please, please reply, Poland! I’m worried about you. Oh, this is Hungary, by the way, if you haven’t guessed by my voice. I hope you get this message and reply soon because I really am worried about you. Bye!”_

Poland picks up the house phone. He hears one ring, then two, then three. He is nearly about to give up when Hungary finally answers.

_“Jó estét.”_

“Hungary, hey, it’s me,” Poland says.

“Poland! Oh thank God! I thought that you might’ve gotten into trouble or worse,” Hungary replies. “Is everything okay? Is something wrong? You never miss our shopping dates.”

Poland smiles sadly and flops down on the couch, groaning. “Hungary, it’s been terrible.”

“What’s been terrible? Did you get into a fight with Lithuania?”

Poland’s smile turns into a frown. “How did you know?”

Hungary chuckles. “I know you too well. What happened this time? You know I’m always open to listen.”

“This is gonna take a while, Hungary.”

“I currently have nothing to do for the next two hours. Please, tell me everything.”

Poland does. Hungary doesn’t ask many questions, and in all, it takes a half-hour to tell her everything.

“So, like, that’s what I’ve been doing since Friday,” Poland says. “I’ve been living alone here in Warsaw, and he hasn’t called, he hasn’t spoken to me at all.” He shakes his head. “I dunno. I thought this would be like our other arguments where we would fight, but we would _always_ make up. I don’t know what’s going on.”

Hungary remains silent.

“Hungary?”

“I’m still here, Poland.”

“Oh, I thought you had hung up on me.”

“You know I’d never do that.”

“Oh…Right. Sorry.”

“Poland, I think when it comes to something like this, you need to give Lithuania space. Obviously, this is an issue that he is sensitive about, and it won’t do you any good to pester him about it. He just needs time.”

“Time?” Poland says, shifting a little. “I mean, he still has his stuff in the guest room and everything. So you think he’ll come back eventually?”

There is a pregnant pause.

“With how your relations are doing, I wouldn’t count on that, Poland.”

Poland doesn’t believe her. The next morning after he wakes up, he calls Lithuania’s office. He _has_ to tell Lithuania that he’s sorry. Letting their mutual disagreement fester would not be good for either of them.

“Good morning. This is Toris Laurin—”

“Liet, Liet! It’s me. Look, I just—”

_Click._

“Good day. Toris Laurinaitis speaking—”

“Liet, look I’m sor—”

_Click._

“…Is this Poland?”

“What makes you say—?”

_Click._

“…”

_“Li—!”_

_Click._

He continues to call Lithuania, once, twice. All of his calls go straight to his voice mail.

A few days later he finds a key to his house under the welcome mat. He suddenly breaks out into a cold sweat and runs upstairs and his heart pounds. _No. No. No._

Lithuania’s room is wiped clean. It looks like a regular guest room, as if Lithuania had not lived in there at all. Everything is gone—his clothes, his pictures, even the little clay animals ocarinas. Poland grits his teeth and silent tears run down his cheek and he slams the door and never looks at it again.

A few weeks turn into a month and the month turns into two. Poland hasn’t spoken to Lithuania, and Lithuania hasn’t spoken to him.

Poland still can’t believe that Lithuania hasn’t returned. Some days, he hears footsteps outside and expects to see Lithuania walking through the front door; some nights, he expects to see Lithuania reading a book like he normally did before he went to bed. Lithuania had his own room at the house, but most of the time he spent his nights with Poland in bed—whether cuddling or talking or sometimes making love. He doesn’t even know if they’ll speak again.

One day as he is blindly working on some paperwork in his office, he hears some faint buzzing in his pocket.

Ah, wait, that would be his phone.

Poland fishes his phone out of his pocket. “Evening.”

_“Polen?”_

He makes a face. “Oh…hello, Germany. Why are you calling me? Is this about the meeting that we scheduled? Because that’s all the way in July.”

“No, Poland, this is not about that meeting. I’m calling you to confirm your attendance for the CBSS summit in late May.”

“Oh _that_ ,” Poland says. He had forgotten that there was a meeting for the Council of the Baltic Sea States. “Oh course, I’ll be coming. My boss is coming too. Why wouldn’t I go?”

“Good,” Germany says. “This was just a confirmation call. Also, Poland, I must ask you to control your behavior at this conference.”

Poland stands up, a bit miffed by this comment. “ _Control my behavior_? Who do you think I am?”

“I only told you because I couldn’t help but overhear some rumors about the relations between you and another member of the Council.”

He groans. “Who told you?”

Germany is silent for a few moments. “That is of no matter. My only concern is that whatever outside problems you and _this country_ may have, I want you to treat each other with respect and dignity at this summit. We will be going nowhere if you and Lithuania are constantly arguing, and it will destroy the Council’s original purpose of geographic cooperation and friendship.”

Poland scoffs. “Fine. I guess I’ll be on my best behavior. I can’t guarantee what Lithuania will do though.”

“Lithuania is a calm and rational and quiet country, and I’m not expecting much of an outburst from him.”

Poland laughs harshly. “Oh, _Niemcy_ , you really don’t know anything about him.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Whatever, when should I arrive in Stralsund?” 

The month of May creeps along, and with each day, Poland’s stomach constantly flips over itself. He desperately wants to make amends with Lithuania and at least patch up their friendship, if not their relationship. But Lithuania acted so hostile on the phone when he tried to call him a while ago.

 _Oh God, I should’ve listened to Hungary_ , he thinks as his plane lands in the evening at the regional airport near Stralsund. Isn’t Lithuania always the sort to have things cool down before he talks about anything? Poland is stupid. He is so very stupid to have rejected Hungary’s advice like that. Damn him. Damn him and his impulsiveness.

“ _Tere_ , Poland!”

Poland spots him and his prime minister across the terminal. “Estonia?”

The bespectacled country approaches him, dragging a small blue suitcase behind him. “Didn’t think I’d see you here!” He’s heard about it too, obviously. “How’ve you been?”

Poland shrugs. “Oh, you know. The usual,” he says, as their bosses become reacquainted. “Nothing too important has happened. Where’s Latvia?”

Estonia looks around. “I don’t know. I think his flight got delayed.” They walk through the terminal. 

Outside of the terminal, Germany meets them with a sleek BMW.

“Welcome to Stralsund,” Germany says. “Estonia, Poland.”

“Hello, Germany,” Estonia says. Poland nods.

Germany snaps his fingers and a valet opens the BMW’s door.

“Oh, aren’t you coming with us, Germany?” Estonia asks.

Germany looks at his watch. “Sweden and Norway should be coming within the hour. I will wait here for them. All of the other nations are at the hotel.”

On the way to town, Estonia taps his fingers against the window rest of the car. “Sooooo, this meeting,” he says. “Should be fun, right?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Yeah, it should be. Me, you, Finland, Latvia, Germany. Although, I think Russia might be there. That’s always interesting.”

“Yeah.”

“And fun.”

This is possibly the most uninteresting conversation Poland’s ever had. He puts his hand in his chin and looks out the window at the changing landscape. Stralsund is a small seaside town on the Baltic coast. It’s cozy and Poland can smell the sea as soon as he opens his windows. 

When they get to the hotel, a concierge immediately takes their bags up to their rooms and Poland and Estonia receive their hotel keys from the reception. Poland looks around the lobby. It’s fairly empty, aside from the reception desk and a group of fellow nations huddled in a group near the staircase. Russia, Latvia, Iceland, Denmark, even Belgium is there to represent the European Commission. 

_“Finland!”_ Estonia exclaims, running to pick his friend out from the group.

“Ah, Poland,” Russia says with a smile as Poland joins them. “I thought you wouldn’t come.”

“Why does everyone seem to think that?” Poland asks, peeved. “Of course I was going to come. Like, regardless of any stupid fight I had with Lie—Lithuania. Where is he anyways?”

“In his room getting something,” Russia replies. He’s still smiling. Poland wants to smack his face. “He’s going to be so pleased when he sees you.”

“Oh you _wish_ ,” Poland spats, glaring at him.

“Poland, it’s been a while since we’ve talked!” Finland suddenly pushes himself between Russia and Poland, eagerly shaking Poland’s hand. “How’s everything been? How’re you dealing with the mess?”

“Oh you know, we’re getting by. We always do.”

“I’m sorry, Finland,” Russia interrupts, putting a hand on Finland’s shoulder. “But I was talking to Poland.”

Finland stares at Russia’s hand with an almost murderous glint before he looks up at the taller nation and knowingly smiles at him. “I’m sorry. I thought you were done talking to him.” He brushes off Russia’s hand and turns towards Poland. Out of the corner of his eye, Poland sees Estonia giving Finland a thumbs-up.

“Latvia, your bag is right where you put it—”

There’s the voice Poland hadn’t heard for months. _Don’t look up. Don’t look up. Don’t—_

“Estonia, I’m glad you made it,” Lithuania says. “Have you—?” 

And Poland makes a stupid decision and looks up.

Lithuania has just stepped off the last step and is now staring at Poland. Poland gazes fiercely back at him. He can’t read the emotion in Lithuania’s forest green eyes. It can be anything—it can be hate, remorse, melancholy, fear, compassion, indignation. It’s everything and nothing at once.

Poland doesn’t know how to feel. What he wants to do to Lithuania can’t be assigned to one emotion or sentiment. A paradox, the polarities of everything, a clash of hate and love all at once.

The group of nations grows quiet, and Poland feels all of their eyes looking at the two of them. The only sound heard are the phones ringing at reception.

“Poland,” Lithuania states.

Poland continues to stare at him. What on Earth does he say?

“H…Hi, Lithuania,” he says.

Lithuania enters the group, standing next to Latvia. He’s staring at Poland the entire time. “How are you?”

Poland grits his teeth. “I'm…fine,” he says. How _dare_ he? How dare he just talk to him like nothing happened? A wave of rage and hurt breaks over him, and he simultaneously wants to cry and break Lithuania’s teeth. 

Lithuania nods and says, “That’s good.” He turns to the others. “I’m going to go to bed now. I have to wake up early to discuss notes with my boss. Good night.”

A few hours later, Poland goes to bed as well and stares up at the ceiling. There is a knock at the door.

He groans and looks at the clock, wondering who would be up.

Oh.

“I thought you went to bed, like, a long time ago.” Poland leans against the wall and glares at the figure in the doorway.

“I woke up around a half-hour ago,” Lithuania says. “You always went to bed later than me.”

“And you were always an early sleeper,” Poland retorts. “Why are you here?”

“May I come in?”

“Why?”

“Just a simple request,” he replies, raising his hands in defense. “We can talk later if you want.”

“What good would that be now?” Poland finds the strength to say these bitter words and he looks straight at Lithuania when he’s speaking.

“I don’t think we can hold a conversation in the doorway. It would disturb the other guests.”

Poland continues to glare at him.

“Okay, fine. Come in.”

“Thank you.”

Poland closes the door behind him, and Lithuania takes a seat by the chairs near the window. The gesture piques Poland’s interest—Lithuania always asks first before sitting in someone else’s seat.

Poland takes the seat opposite of him and looks out the window in disinterest. It’s fairly boring outside. Only a few lights are on and in the distance, he sees the lights of ships. He drums his fingers on the small wooden table between the two of them.

“Poland.”

Poland tears his eyes away from this sight and looks straight at Lithuania. “Why’re you talking to me all of a sudden? You’ve been ignoring me for the past _month_.”

Lithuania sighs. “This isn’t exactly something that one talks about over the phone.”

The blond shakes his head. “No, but you, like, could’ve returned my calls at least _once_ instead of leaving me like that.”

Lithuania closes his eyes. “Alright, alright, so I did not call you back. I apologize for that.”

“Also, what the _Hell_ was that with yo—” Poland gulps to clear his throat. “—th-the guest room. You didn’t even tell me you were coming over, much less taking _everything_.”

Lithuania looks at the floor. “I thought that it wouldn’t be the best time to talk to you. Besides those items _did_ belong to me, and I wanted them back. They weren’t yours to look at or keep.”

Does Lithuania know what he is saying? Does he know how hurt and upset Poland felt when he found the empty room? How much Poland cried that he didn’t even have one piece of memorabilia from him?

“It didn’t help that you practically threw me out,” he continues, crossing his arms. “Especially when you told me to go back to my house in Vilnius, and in your own words, ‘get out of Poland’.”

Poland blushes in shame and looks down. “I…I forgot I told you that.” An annoyed expression flashes across Lithuania’s face.

“Why are you even here again?” Poland asks, rising. “Both of us could be sleeping.”

“First off, I hope that we can put our differences aside for the meeting tomorrow.” Lithuania looks at the bedside clock. “More like today. We just have to pretend to be at least cordial with one another, no matter how we feel. We have to be professional for this, Poland.”

Poland finds himself inexplicably angry. “That’s _it_?” he snaps. “Is that honestly _why_ you woke me up?”

“No, Poland. I—”

“Just to tell me _that_? You know, you could have just _told_ me before the meeting.”

“Poland—”

“This is such a waste of time, Liet—”

 _“Shut up and LISTEN to me.”_ Lithuania suddenly stands up, knocking the chair over. He is breathing harshly and quickly, and Poland sees something wolfish in his face.

“I thought that we would talk through this like adults,” he growls. “That maybe we could get through a reconciliation about this. I thought that you might have been _humbled_ by my leave. You might be older than me, but I’ve overestimated your maturity.

“I’m tired of you always pushing away my opinions or not even letting me finish a simple sentence. You’ve always said we were partners, but you are too blinded by nostalgia and your damnable attitude to realize that it was all—about— _you_.”

Lithuania stands deathly still and doesn’t speak for a few moments. And then, as if some master puppeteer has moved the strings, Lithuania stiffly bends down and rights the chair, heading towards the door.

“I’m done talking with you,” he says. “You wonder why I don’t want to come back to your house or reform the Commonwealth. Now I hope you’re smart enough to realize it.” He shuts the door behind him.

Poland takes a few steps forward and sits on the bed in shock. His emotions can’t even process the situation properly. What just happened? Was there honestly a chance at a break-through with Lithuania that he had just lost _again_? And Lithuania is blaming _his_ attitude for this? What was wrong with him?

Now it’s twelve thirty-three, and he has wasted enough time. He crawls under the covers and tries to fall asleep again.

Liar. That liar. Lithuania’s nothing but a liar about every thing. Their so-called “relationship”, their history. Over four hundred years of shared unity smashed in less than five minutes.

Now that Lithuania’s true feelings have come out, it all makes sense. Lithuania hates him. They were never really friends. His initial thoughts were right all along. He’s known this, hasn’t he? Ever since that first fight about the Commonwealth when the idea first popped up.

Maybe he’s known earlier too.

Their current arguments between their people, the decline of Polish-Lithuanian relations since the start of the twenty-first century…

 _Vilnius_.

It had all started with that _damned city_ , didn’t it? 

No. Poland, it didn’t start with that. It had started with the Commonwealth. 1569. Almost five hundred years ago.

It’s just his morning too. Due to Lithuania’s impromptu waking of him the night before, he wakes up later than he expected, and he manages to be the last one to walk into the small conference hall for the nations. 

“Ah, so you _have_ arrived, Poland,” Germany says, visibly annoyed. He must be late by German standards.

“We all thought that you had slept in,” Russia says brightly.

“Well, I _would_ have made it here on time, _but_ I had a rather bad dream that kept me up.” Poland scans the conference room and he finds that some idiot has placed Lithuania and him almost next to each other with Norway in between them. At least Lithuania has the decency to look away.

“In that case, please take your seat, Poland,” Germany says. “The meeting will start in a few minutes.”

Poland takes his seat next to Norway. “Morning, Norway,” he says. At least he has a friend in Norway. Not even a month before, the Norwegian Foreign Minister made a state visit to Poland, signing in various cooperation programs between the two countries. 

“Morning. I thought you’d make it,” the quiet country replies. From his other side, Lithuania snorts. 

Poland glares at him, and Lithuania bashfully begins speaking to Latvia. “Ah, sorry I couldn’t talk to you yesterday. I—”

“I know, I know,” Norway says. “I’ve heard.” He looks away from Poland. “And I don’t want to get involved.”

This shouldn’t surprise him, but damn, why does _everyone_ know his business? (Speaking of which, who the hell made him and Lithuania sit so close?)

“Poland? Will the Republic of Poland please speak?”

_“Eh?”_

Poland jolts up in his seat, awakened from his stupor. Every member of the council is staring at him from around the table.

“Poland?” he repeats. “Will you please give your report please?”

Poland blinks. “Uhh yeah, just wait a few.” He shuffles through the papers on his table and stands up. “Okay, yeah, so, like, we’ve passed this new law or something that’s supposed to help with the carbon dioxide emissions or something.”

There is faint chuckling around the table.

Germany sighs. “Poland, we’ve talked about that already. We’re here to discuss the rising sea levels in the Baltic.”

“Oh…yeah, right. I-I meant that.” Poland blushes and goes through his notes again. “We…we haven’t seen much change in the sea levels of the Baltic or the Vistula lagoon.” He plucks out a sheet of paper. “‘The potential rising sea levels in the next century could decimate the Gdańsk metropolitan region and displace over two million people in the Pomeranian, West Pomeranian, and Warmian-Masurian voivodeships, causing an estimated over a hundred million złoty in damage to the surrounding soil and countryside’,” he reads, slinking back into his chair. He didn’t just zone out, did he? How embarrassing. And in front of—

Poland looks over at Lithuania and sees that the brunet isn’t even looking at him; instead, he’s talking to Latvia. Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be. The liar will just ignore him for the rest of the meeting, pretending that nothing had ever happened between them.

If there were one thing that he _thought_ Lithuania had learned at his house, it would be that a nation that wrongs Poland would get their ass beaten (figuratively, of course; Poland considers himself something of a gentleman). With his current behavior, Lithuania will be running out of the hall with his tail between his legs. The white eagle has claws.

Germany nods. “Thank you, Poland.” A number of other countries then give their reports—Russia, Sweden among them. 

After they are finished, Germany turns to the rest of the table. “Now through cooperation with the rest of the European Union, we will be issuing statutes which will hopefully lower the amount of damage done to seaside towns and the country.”

“The Republic of Latvia would like to speak!”

“Go right ahead.”

Little Latvia stands up. “Is there a timeframe in which sea levels are expected to rise?”

“The Republic of Lithuania would wish to speak as well.”

Germany nods.

Lithuania stands up. “I echo Latvia’s concerns. My own scientists predict that the southern half of my vital regions will be consumed by water.”

Poland snickers at that last line.

Lithuania immediately turns his head and glares at him. “Do you have something to say, Poland?” he asks.

He shakes his head. “Ah…it’s nothing, _Liet_ ,” he says with a smirk, and it’s totally worth seeing the look of pure indignation flit across Lithuania’s face. 

“Poland, let Lithuania speak,” Germany says. “Continue, Lithuania.”

Lithuania gives him a wary look before addressing Germany. “As Latvia and I were discussing…” He then goes on a rant about sea levels and his soon-to-be displaced people and sits down.

 _I hate his face_. Poland crosses his arms and looks across the table, where Finland and Estonia are listening attentively. _I hate his voice_. He should’ve brought his earplugs so he wouldn’t have to listen to him. Resentment circulates through him like blood, and he wishes that he had punched Lithuania last night. He just wants to _hurt_ him, hurt him in the way that he hurt Poland, so maybe he would know how it felt to be truly betrayed.

“Lithuania can just fall into the ocean for all I care,” he mutters angrily.

_“Don’t think I didn’t hear that!”_

Poland leans back in his seat to find Lithuania glaring at him once more.

“Oh _what_?” Poland says, smiling cruelly. “It’s true. I don’t think a lot of countries would care.”

“Just be quiet, Poland. I don’t want to get into an argument here.”

“Oh, so you do think it’s true? Well, good luck finding some land for your people in Russia or Belarus.”

“Of course I don’t think it’s true!” Lithuania snaps. A rather sadistic thrill goes through Poland as he sees Lithuania getting angrier and angrier. 

“You liar. You do. You’re just lying, like you always do.”

“What in God’s name are you talking about?”

“Don’t lie. I’m tired of you lying.”

“Be _quiet_ , both of you!” Norway whispers, glancing at both of them. “I want to listen to the meeting.”

Poland flashes Lithuania a dirty look before straightening himself in his seat. He looks pointedly away and pretends to be listening to whatever Belgium is saying.

“I know you’re lying.”

_“Poland!”_

_“Enough!”_ Germany stands up. The hall has gone deathly silent. Every pair of eyes in the room is on them, some nations looking visibly uncomfortable with Germany’s anger. Russia is smiling like if Christmas is coming early. 

“I have had it with you two. I told you both specifically not to bring your personal lives into the conference room.” Germany looks like he actually might hit the wall. “Outside, both of you.”

“But I barely did anything!” Lithuania exclaims in horror. “Poland was the one talking to me!”

“Oh shut up, you were talking too,” Poland says.

“Stay out of this, _you_.”

“You’re both now dismissed,” Germany announces quickly. “Russia, Sweden, escort them out.”

“Oh, I’d be more than happy to, Germany,” Russia says, going behind Poland and leading him out of the hall by an arm. Sweden does the same to Lithuania. The brunet looks absolutely miserable and ashamed.

“Now you’ve both been very, very bad!” Russia says, finally releasing Poland when they passed through the door. “You won’t be coming back until after lunch, right, Sweden?”

Sweden nods. “Or until Germany tells us,” he adds. “Just _try_ not to do anythin’ else while you’re here.”

“W-We won’t,” Lithuania says. Poland says nothing. 

The two larger countries go back into the room and close the door.

Lithuania sinks into one of the squishy armchairs near the door and puts his head in his hands.

Poland just sighs and sits down across the hallway. Should he talk to him or what? It’s only been a few minutes but this silence is getting on his nerves.

“You are a _child_ , Polsko.”

He looks up at Lithuania, who has absolute venom in his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“That was absolutely _humiliating_ ,” Lithuania growls. “I can’t even _look_ at Germany now. I felt like a child.”

“What do you expect me to say to that exactly?”

Lithuania’s eyes widen and he scoffs in disbelief. “An _apology_ , maybe. No, what am I saying?” He shakes his head. “You’re below an apology.”

The thought that Lithuania think that Poland is _below_ anything enrages him. “What is that supposed to mean? If anything, _you_ should be the one owing me an apology.”

 _“Wh-What?!”_ Lithuania sputters. “You’re insane!”

Poland stands his ground. “I am not. You’ve lied to me and led me on for centuries. The _least_ you can do is apologize to me.”

“Just tell me where—excuse my language—where the _Hell_ you heard that.”

“Heard it? Nobody told me. I figured it out myself,” he replies almost proudly, putting his hands on his hips. “Everything you’ve told me is a lie. You don’t really care about me at all, do you? You never have.”

Poland glowers at Lithuania to see his reaction. Lithuania stares at him with his mouth half-open, a stupefied expression on his face.

“What? P-Poland, how…? What made you so sure that…?”

“It all makes sense,” Poland continues. He finds a sudden knot in his throat, and he gulps to make it go away. It doesn’t. “You just wanted to spare my feelings. You hated the Commonwealth, and while you were doing that, you lied to me. I said that we were partners, Lithuania, but that’s just a lie. We never were.”

Silence reigns between them again. Lithuania continues to stare at him with his mouth agape, and Poland looks at his shoes, unable to look at Lithuania. He silently prays to God that he doesn’t break into tears.

“ _That’s_ what this is all about?” Lithuania whispers. “That fight we had. Is _that_ why you think I lied to you?”

“No, but that made me realized it.”

“Poland, that…You’re making things up. Your mind is thinking things that never happened.”

Poland snaps his head up. “What?”

“I’m rather insulted,” Lithuania says. “We have one fight, and suddenly you’re questioning my honesty towards you and our relationship. Poland, that’s paranoia speaking.”

“Paranoia…?” he echoes. His words grow more and more unsure. “But…the Commonwealth…”

“Let’s just say that’s one of many things we disagree on.” 

Poland groans. He doesn’t like the sound of that; they have too many things they disagree on. Can a relationship like theirs even survive with so many differences?

“So, you’ve never lied about our relationship?” Poland brings himself to ask.

Lithuania smiles a little. “You know how I am when it comes to lying. How would it be possible for me to lie to you across five centuries?”

Poland’s lips form into something of a smile. “Yeah, I guess that’s, like, true.”

“Then what made you think I did? When you found out that I didn’t like the Commonwealth?”

“I…yeah, that’s it. When I brought it up. I always thought that it was our glory days, you know? That it was good for both of us.”

Lithuania lowers his head. “Yes, that. Well…you know now that I didn’t like it as much as you thought I did.”

“Yeah. Now I know that it wasn’t all that great for you. Why didn’t I know about it sooner?”

“I should apologize for that, Poland. I should’ve told you my feelings before this entire thing imploded.”

“No, it was just me being dumb again. Like you said, I let my nostalgia for the past get the best of me.”

“Well…things happen.”

“I guess they do.”

The doors to the conference room open, and Germany stands in the doorway, looking pissed off as usual.

“If you two are ready to return to the conference room and discuss the topics calmly and rationally, then you may return,” he says.

Lithuania glances at Poland; Poland glances at Lithuania and smiles and says, “I think we both are.”

“We are,” Lithuania agrees.

Germany acknowledges them with a nod and allows them to go back.

As the conference continues, neither of them talks to the other much, focusing more on the task or topic at hand. Poland doesn’t know if Lithuania feels this as well, but that invisible wall is beginning to crack, closing the distance between them.

After it ends, Lithuania pulls Poland aside. “Poland.”

“Lithuania,” he replies politely.

“Ah, listen. I think we’re going to need more time to talk this out. Alone. And a lot more time.”

“Mmhmm.”

“I’d do it tonight, but I have to talk with Estonia and Latvia about some bilateral agreements in Latvia’s room.”

“We totally don’t have much time tomorrow,” Poland says with a groan. “After that meeting with all our bosses, we have to fly back.”

“Then we have the weekend. Are you free?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I know I’m definitely free on Friday and Saturday. And Sunday, of course. Want to come over to my house?”

“How about mine? It’s been a while since you’ve been in Vilnius.”

The rest of their time in Germany passed without incident. When he leaves, Poland is in a much better mood than when he arrived. Next week will be hell with Euro planning, but at least he has the time on the weekend to calm down.

“Thanks for inviting me over again, Lithuania.” Poland takes the small teacup and puts it on the plate. Lithuania makes the tea just as he likes it, even though there’s a small cup filled with milk on the tray. For once, Poland doesn’t mind.

“You can call me Liet again, you know.” Lithuania sips his tea as a soft rain patters against the window. The rain had cut short their small revisit of the Lithuanian capital, beginning right when they were taking a stroll around Gediminas Hill.

“Yeah…Liet.” The word brings a much better taste to Poland’s tongue than _Lithuania_ ever did.

“Now,” Lithuania begins, “why don’t we start at the fight?”

Poland nods. “Yeah, the fight.” He scratches the side of his head. “Listen, that idea…”

“Let’s just say that it wasn’t one of your best ones,” Lithuania puts it.

“No, it wasn’t. I…” Poland licks his lips. He rehearsed it several times in the car, but why is it so hard to speak now?

“Yes?”

“I…I’m sorry, Liet. You were right.” He takes a pause to gather his thoughts. “I was being selfish. I had no idea about the cause-and-effects of this, how it would affect the other nations, or even _us_ —our relationship. The Commonwealth wasn’t glorious for you, even though I’ve always made it out to be.”

“Let’s just forgive and forget like we always do. I forgive you, Po.”

That leaves a sour taste in Poland’s mouth, like when Lithuania said that it was just another thing they disagreed on. “I...don’t really like that.”

Lithuania blinks. “What do you mean?”

“It’s always ‘forgive and forget’ between us, but we never really _do_ anything about our problems, huh? We move past them, on a personal level, but they’re always there.”

Lithuania closes his eyes. “Sometimes, there are just differences between two people. Either person doesn’t want to let go to accommodate the other, so naturally, they keep their discrepancies.” 

“I don’t like it.”

“It’s just a part of a relationship. Some things never change.”

Poland half-smiles. “They really don’t.” He takes a sip of tea. There’s another topic that he’s itching to bring to the table. “About staying at my house…”

Lithuania sighs and puts his plate on the kitchen table. “I was afraid you’d wonder about that.”

Poland’s stomach drops. “Wh-What?”

“I think I’ll remain here, in Vilnius. It’s getting weary traveling back and forth from Warsaw to Vilnius, and my people _need_ me, Poland. I know that—” 

Alarm bolts through Poland. “But you _can’t_ —!” He’s known this; he’s known this in the back of his mind since Lithuania walked out that front door, so why is this squeezing his heart?

“But I _have_ to, Poland!” Lithuania exclaims. “I know this is hard for you to hear, but it’s for the best. I can’t continue to live at your house. I’m independent, too.”

“Y-You—You just don’t get it!” Everything is collapsing; Poland finds himself on the verge of tears. “Liet, I _need_ you.”

“Poland, you don’t need me,” Lithuania says gently. “You’ve never needed me. It’s hard, I know, but…Oh, Poland, don’t cry!”

With the agility of having done this countless times before, Lithuania rushes to the other side of the table and pulls Poland into a hug. Poland buries his head in Lithuania’s warm chest, his tears staining his shirt. Lithuania’s fingers tangle in his hair, his other hand rubbing his back. This isn’t comforting him at all. This is the last thing Poland wanted to hear.

“Liet, you’ve been at my house for _twenty_ years!” he whispers in a high-pitched voice. “You can’t just change your mind—”

“Some things never change.” Lithuania’s own voice cracks. “But sometimes, change is inevitable.”

“Screw change! Wh-Why can’t things be the way they were before?”

“Times are different, Po. You have your own economy to take care of, and I have mine, and things aren’t really looking up for the EU.”

“Liet, this sucks.”

“I know, Po. I know.” Lithuania takes a shaky breath. “This isn’t going to be easy, and I never said it would be. As much as I got irritated by your little…quirks, it’s going to be hard living alone after twenty years.”

Poland sniffs. “It’s always been us though. It’s…always been us…”

Lithuania doesn’t say anything to that, instead content with stroking Poland’s hair. “You don’t need me, Poland. You’ve lived alone before, haven’t you?”

Poland looks up. “Y-Yes, but that was different…”

“No, it’s not. Not completely.” Lithuania smiles, but it is tinged with sadness. “You’re independent too, Poland. You’re strong. You’re one of the strongest countries I’ve known. You don’t need me.” He kisses Poland’s forehead. “You don’t need anyone.”

Poland gulps, and a blush manages to creep up his cheeks. “I-I’m still going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you too. No matter what happens between our people, you’re my best friend.”

Poland closes his eyes and allows more tears to leak under the lids. It’s the end of an era; for the first time in twenty years, he will have to live alone. It’s a little scary, but in the end, he’ll just have to suck up and deal with it.

“And you’re my Lithuania.”

That night, Poland lays awake in bed in Lithuania’s spare room, listening to the soft sound of the rain against the window. It had continued into the night, occasionally increasing or decreasing in intensity. It didn’t move to full-on thunder yet, and for that, Poland is grateful.

But just in case…

Poland softly knocks and Lithuania’s door opens slightly. “Liet?’

“You couldn’t fall asleep either?” Lithuania is sitting up in his bed, reading a paperback. The bedside lamp is turned on.

Poland shakes his head. 

“You know there’s plenty of room here,” Lithuania says. He bookmarks his page with a prayer card and sets the book down on his bedside table, turning off the lamp.

Poland crawls into bed, cuddling up to Lithuania’s. The taller nation is always so cozy. “I’m gonna miss this,” he murmurs.

“I’ll miss this too.” Lithuania puts an arm around his shoulder. “I’ll miss your clinging.”

Poland lays there in Lithuania’s arms and sighs softly, listening to the rain outside. The nation’s smooth breathing calms him. They lay together for a while, night creating a blanket of shadow.

“Hey, Liet…?”

“Mmm?”

“I love you.”

It is a phrase they rarely use with the other. They don’t use it a lot not because they don’t feel it, or because it is a phrase reserved for couples, but because they both silently agreed that overuse of that word would cheapen the meaning. Their relationship isn’t a romantic one. No, it is a friendship—an extremely intimate friendship spanning centuries. Neither of them needs a romantic partner to feel complete; they have each other, and that is just as satisfying.

“I love you too, Po.”

Lithuania lifts Poland’s chin and presses his lips to Poland’s. Warmth spreads through Poland like a small flame, and now he is kissing Lithuania back, and there is a tangle of limbs and sheets and moans, and the warmth turns into the stirrings of desire. Before he knows it, Poland is on top of Lithuania, holding his face in both hands and softly kissing him.

“I’m going to miss this too,” Poland murmurs. He nuzzles Lithuania’s neck. He feels Lithuania’s cheeks flaring and his breath coming and going in quick pants.

“S-Same…” Lithuania replies. His fingers lightly tug on Poland’s blond hair, and the smaller nation lets out a moan.

“Been too long.”

“I know.”

Poland kisses Lithuania one last time and fumbles with the buttons on his shirt. It’s dark after all.

“This isn’t fair.” Lithuania gasps as Poland’s hand brushes over a nipple.

“What isn’t?”

“This.”

Poland yelps as Lithuania knocks him over to the side and climbs on top of him, his hands on his chest.

“L-Liet!”

“Shh…”

Poland pouts. “It was my turn.”

“I say that it’s mine.” Lithuania pulls his shirt over his head.

Poland shivers as the cold air hits his chest. “You’re a terrible friend.”

Lithuania laughs warmly, and Poland doesn’t feel as cold. “Not friend, remember? _Partner_.”

Piece by piece, they remove their clothing until they are bared to the other, their bodies and souls. Hushed moans and quiet kisses fill the room as their forms become one in the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The little clay animal-shaped ocarinas in the beginning are called Molinukai: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Molinukai
> 
> Finland’s bold and brusque behavior around Russia is due to the Winter War and current problems between the two countries: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Finland%E2%80%93Russia_relations
> 
> Stuff on the Norwegian state visit to Poland: http://www.regjeringen.no/en/dep/ud/press/news/2012/norwegian_polish-cooperation.html?id=681505


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